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Tuesday, February 25, 2014

That poem is entitled Masks. How many times we might have passed someone else with blue skin, but because we were too ashamed, or scared of rejection, we didn't know it. How many connections, loves, affairs, relationships have been missed because we wore our mask. How many times have good things passed me by because I was too scared to let my true self show.

I can understand the desire to live with the mask firmly in place. It is easier to accept rejection if I can say, "They don't really know me, they only see the me I want them to." But I can also understand the desire to live with the mask in the garbage can, thrown away so that the true me shines through.

My mask is that of a straight girl, who studies a lot, and reads a little for fun. My mask likes to work out, and smoke and drink. My mask doesn't know too much about music or movies or authors or composers. My mask tries to blend in.

The girl behind my mask love to look at men and women. The real me loves to read for fun and to listen to Gershwin and Vivaldi while blogging. The real me is head over heels for a man named Isaac and want to date a woman named Macy. The real me doesn't want kids, only horses and cats. Maybe a dog or two. The real me wants a nose ring, a tattoo behind her ear, tattoos on both wrists and tattoos down both legs. The real me hates small talk and wanted to be told everything straight, just like it is, no sugar coating.

But what about making people feel uncomfortable? Sometime, the true me- the bi-pan-queer, horse loving, Whedon'ite- overwhelms and frightens people; especially the bi-pan-queer part. So how do I live: with the mask off or the mask on? Or should I buy an opera mask and only show part of my face?

Monday, February 24, 2014

"I get up, make breakfast, eat, and send my kids to
school. I go to work, I come home and start making dinner. After dinner is done
and the kids are in bed I might get to sit down with my spouse and watch some
TV. Then we go to bed and the whole thing starts the next day. This is my Gay
Lifestyle."

I can't remember anymore where this quote came from, who
said it or where I read it for the first time. After all this time, I doubt that
the words are an exact copy of the original. I have pulled them from my mind so
many times that had they been a letter they would be crumpled, stained, and
unreadable now.

This thought catches on my mind because it is both perfectly
right and astoundingly wrong. While it's true that my lifestyle looks exactly
like this picture, my life is profoundly more nuanced than the picture implies.

I am a pansexual woman who has never been in a relationship
that wasn't sig-gendered, heterosexual normative. Most would wonder if that
qualifies me to claim to be queer at all. And yet there is no doubt in my mind
of what I am. It's there in the commercials I like, the books that I read, and
the jokes I don't laugh at. It's in the way I raise my children, and the causes
I fight for. It's in the walls I have built around myself, and the friends I
rarely talk to; it's in the times the touch of my husband thrills me, and in
the times when it doesn't.

Loyal, fickle, sex-crazed, lonely, unable to decide,
determined, torn, ambivalent, mercurial, steadfast, warm, antisocial, needy, independent,
the list goes on and on. I have been all of these things, and everyone of them
has been affected by my sexuality. You may not see it when you look at me, but
I am not fully me without it.

Now if we're talking about sexual experience... that's where things get complicated.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Sometimes I feel like I forget about this concept of how life is RIGHT NOW.

I get anxious and totally excited for my life in the future. For my amazing self-owned business where I teach people how to love themselves and eat the best damn food the earth can offer. I forget the beautiful things around me right now. Like the blind man who rides the trax and gets off at my stop every morning and how without fail someone is there to help him. I've seen him around and I'm pretty sure that he knows exactly where he is going--people without certain active senses tend to wind up with really enhanced senses otherwise, and he knows his way around--but that doesn't detract from the amazing concept of humanity. How we see someone who we think needs our help and we just help them, no questions asked.

Utah is especially dreary in the winter--though it has been very lovely recently!--and I have a hard time of it. The pollution has really gotten to me this winter. It is bad every year, but this year just seemed like the WORST. I'm ready to move away from here.

And there I am back at my point. I am waiting waiting waiting for the day when Utah will allow gay marriage and equal rights. The day when I can get out of Utah and explore something else. The day when I am successful and happy and relaxed and awesome.

But when I think about it, despite the few things I can't change, the present moment is pretty fucking rad. I am successful in a lot of areas--my goddam beautiful relationship for one. I'm a pretty good dog lover; I mean I can throw a ball like no other and slobber doesn't bother me one bit. And, while I'm always thinking that later I will be happier and awesomer, right now I am pretty fucking happy and relaxed and awesome.

So, here's to being grateful for my right now moments. For the good that I'm doing now. I'm grateful for my relationship--for the prettiest damn girl in the world. And I'm grateful for chewed up tennis balls and Mr. Bootsy Wootsy. I'm grateful for trax rides and bling guys and smiles from strangers. I'm grateful that I don't live in a cardboard box or wrapped in plastic grocery bags.

RyBread Wisdom: If you appreciate someone, then tell them that you appreciate them. Not saying the good things makes you look like a complete asshole, and mostly, if you don't know how to say the things that matter--like that you appreciate someone--you end up becoming an asshole in the long run. Be brave. Tell someone thank you.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

I was back in Small Town, Utah, for the weekend and just happened to get to spend Valentine's with a man I have been crushing on quite intensely. I stumbled, love drunk, through the door of my parent's house and excitedly told my momma that finally, after five months of chasing this fellow, I spent the night in bed with him. Her response was quite unexpected: "You really can go both ways, can't you?" And that got me thinking.

Yes, I think I can go both ways, though I definitely have preferences. When it comes to being in relationships I would rather be with a woman. Something about cuddling with a woman and baring my soul to her...the idea of a girlfriend, of a wife, makes me very happy. But right now, I am lusting after a man. Just one man. Well...maybe two, but the second is Tom Hiddleston and I don't have a shot in hell with a movie star!

What does it mean to be able to go both ways? Is there such a thing as a perfect split or is there always going to be a preference of one over the other? These are things I wonder as I lay in the dark, watching the firelight from my candle dance around the ceiling.

My research has led me to believe that sexuality is fluid, to a point. Especially for bi-pan-queer. I just don't know my extremes yet, what I fluctuate between. And that is a point of interest for me. I'll figure it out some day.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Okay, it's the big day--yes, I mean the day after Valentine's day. This is really the best day to celebrate the special day because you can get all the chocolate and flowers and heart-shaped pillows for like 50% off. Maybe I'm a cheapskate, but I like to think that I just know how to work the system. ;) I know some people who celebrate Christmas after the actual Christmas day because they do all their shopping when all the things go on sale after the actual holiday--they are smart!

I used to sort of hate Valentine's Day. Not because I'm against love or anything, but because I can't stand the commercialization of everything and because it always seems to be some big deal on all the social media spheres (not that I belong to those anymore, but still). Maybe I just hate pink. Why do we have to celebrate love with all these stupid chalk hearts and pink wrapping and pink everything?

But, all the commercialism and marketing and sugar consumption aside, I actually secretly love this holiday (and most holidays) simply because of the way it brings so many people together. Think about it, across the entire nation people spent the day with someone they loved. They took the time to buy some flowers or make a card or write a poem or do something special for someone. This holiday especially is one that I love because it is literally the national celebration of Love day.

Inevitably there are those people who grieve over their lack of a lover. Single's Awareness Day is a popular name for February 14th, but even singles can enjoy sending or receiving valentines from people. A simple text from a friend saying "I love you" is still powerful and adds energy to this epic love day. Imagine if everyone put as much effort into their love lives every day as they do on V-day. Do you think there would be less hate in the world? Do you think people would have the time to even think about a horrible comment they could make about someone else?

I think that love is a beautiful thing and if we let ourselves feel it more everyday the world will only get better and better.

RyBread Wisdom: Don't overlook the overly-priced, sometimes seemingly overly-exaggerated things of this world. Sometimes they are merely the simplicities of this world. Buy a box of chocolates and some flowers and a teddy bear for your secret love. Perhaps, it's cliche, but sometimes that's exactly what we need--the classic, simple, fairly-tale sort of affection.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Hello to all the weird blog-readers out there.
I've written for this blog before and had to stop because of, well, life. But, I decided to take another stab at the blog, so here I am.

You can check out my old bio and everything if you'd like (my most popular post from before was the 30 minute Orgasm--it generated quite a bit of energy and debate).

I like to say things just how they are. I'm not afraid to be wrong, and let's face it, I'm wrong a lot of the time. But that won't keep me from speaking up and being honest.

If at any time my posts are offensive to you, let me know. I'm always open to learning new things, understanding people, and trying to see things differently.

I'm happy to be back, and I hope you enjoy my experiences, thoughts, rants and raves.

RyBread Wisdom: When you are waiting outside the bathroom and a lady walks out giving you an "I'm sorry and also so very ashamed" look, then quickly turns her eyes to the floor and you get a whiff of something horrible, DO NOT ENTER THAT BATHROOM--especially if it's just one of those bathrooms that's single (you know: toilet, sink, door). It's in your best interest to just walk away. Find another gas station. Or, in some instances, use the men's bathroom.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

I am a cisgender female, which means that I am a female by sex and I identify as a female. In short, I'm a girl. I prefer female pronouns, like her and she, and I like to look like a girl. But I don't have a very elaborate or fancy wardrobe. I am also not a girly-girl. I'm allergic to make-up and hair styling products and even if I wasn't, I think there are better things to do with my time, like read. But lately I have been afraid that I have been coming across as boy'ish, or dykie.

I wear boots and jeans and old thrift store sweaters. My hair is almost always in a braid or ponytail, and stuffed under a hat of some kind. I was told the other day that I come off as the dominant one in a relationship.

I don't want to be the dominant one, I want there to be a trade off between me and my girl, or boy. I don't want to come off as a dyke... I want to be seen as femme, maybe blue jean femme at the least. But how do I do that? Should I invest in better clothes? Should I find make-up that I am not allergic to?

But what about my already stretched budget?

Money sucks. And so does figuring yourself out...that sucks too :(

Oh well! What can I do to figure out how to make my outsides look the way my insides feel?